Christmas in Australia
by cornwallace
Summary: I got this joke, right?
1. Miles per hour

"I don't get it."

"That's kinda the joke," I tell him. "You're not supposed to."

"That's not funny. How is that a joke?"

"I think it's pretty funny."

"I can't see why," he says, he says.

"You want to try it again?"

That was me. And there was my little buddy, Sonic the hedgehog.

We met a long time ago, when I saved him from eating def. Unfortunately, his parents ate a very generous helping of def before I arrived on the scene.  
>The poor kid needed someone to look up to. That was me.<br>Tails. Tails the fox.  
>The hero of Mobius.<p>

"Um. No thanks," my little buddy says, he says.

Sonic likes to think he's the fastest thing alive. Truth is, he's just as fast as I am, and he can't even swim or fly. Also, his spikes are useless, because I can also do the spindash. Without spikes.  
>But I do like to make the little guy feel special every now and again.<p>

And that's when the president walks in. I'm sitting in his chair, behind his desk. Sonic is sitting where I should be sitting. (on the other side of it.)

"What are you doing?"

"Tails was just telling a joke," Sonic says, he says. "I don't get it."

"No. I mean you're in my chair. Tails. Why are you in my chair?"

"It was an important factor in the comedic delivery process. Would you like to hear the joke?"

"Not really."

"Aw, c'mon. It's a pretty sweet joke."

"Get out of my chair."

"I've got this great knock-knock joke, President Obamma, I just want to know what you think of it."

"It's Obama."

"Bite, god damn it."

"Fine," he says, he says. "Go."

"Well, it's a knock-knock joke, but you have to start it."

"Fuck your joke. We have more important things to-"

"Just start the joke, Obamma."

"It's Obama."

"Start. The. Joke."

"Knock-knock," he says, he says.

"Who's there?"

"I don't know," he says.

"No," says I. "That's not right. Try it again."

"I don't want to."

"Try it again."

"Knock-knock."

"Who's there?"

"Boo."

"No," says I, says I. "That's not right."

"We need to talk, Tails."

"I agree. We do need to talk Tails. I'm pretty awesome.

"That's not what I meant."

"It's what I meant, and I did, in fact, mean it."

"Snively's back, Tails. He isn't dead."

"That boner? How do you know?"

"He sent us a warning in the mail. And I'd appreciate it if you didn't use that kind of language in my office."

"What, English? I don't know any other languages, sir. Erhaps-pay ig-pay atin-lay?"

"Enough, smartass."

"On't-day orry-way. E'll-way et-gay at-thay oner-bay."

"Goddamnit, Tails. English. And enough with the boners."

"Well. I can control myself, sir, but I can't speak for my little buddy, here. He's going through puberty, you see."

"I, uh-" Sonic starts to say. I cut him off for more important matters.

"How are you so sure it isn't a hoax?"

"We had a team of specialists analyze the handwriting. We concluded the letter to be legit."

"Legit, eh?"

"Legit."

"What did the letter say?" I inquire.

"It said to beware of the shadows that will consume the city."

"What an idiot. There are shadows all over the place. At every corner. Behind every building. Underneath every baby, who, I might add, are the only people who are afraid of shadows."

"Tails, you need to take this more seriously. You know better than anyone just what this monster is capable of."

"Shitting his pants and crying while I destroy his whole world? Yeah, I remember."

"You shouldn't get a big dick, Tails," my _sidekick_ chimes in. "I don't think it was easy as you remember it."

"Sonic, I know you recently popped your first boner and that you're excited about that. I get it. I was excited about my first boner, too. Way back when I got it, I was like, holy shit, this is awesome. That's the nature of shit. However, you shouldn't let cock become an obsession. I shudder to think what the people would think of me if they knew I had a gay sidekick."

"I'm just-"

"Sonic, I don't mind that you're effeminate and weird. I really don't. Honest injun. But other people might. I don't want to see you getting dragged behind a hover pad, so do yourself a favor, if for nobody else, and keep that shit in the bedroom with your, uh, boyfriend's. Or whatever."

"I got that terminology from you," he says, he says.

"No," says I, says I. "You didn't. Don't say that. Don't you ever say that in public. Don't you **_ever_ **goddamn say that. I like vagina."

"That's not what I-"

"Will you both cut the shit?" Bobamma inquires. "I need your help. The city needs your help. My people need your help. Fuck, the universe needs your help. Stop talking about your goddamn dicks and do your fucking jobs. Help."

"How much does it pay?"

"Pay?"

"I demand hookers and blow. In that order. I want to surprise them with it For amp'd yiffins."

"Both of those things are illegal, Tails," he says, he says, sighing.

"Alright, so just fund it. I'll find the hookers, I'll buy the blow, and you can just hand me lots and lots of wallet dollars."

"So you can OD, or get AIDS?"

"You don't have to be a dick about it, Bobamma."

"It's **OBAMA**," he says, he says.

"Whatever. How much?"

"You get thirty thousand shineys. No better, no worse. You can suck it if you want more."

"You shouldn't use that kind of language," says I, says I. "It's very vulgar."

"Goddamnit. Stop influencing me and stop turning the tables!"

"Only if you ask me about the Big D experience."

"The Big D experience?"

"Yes. You gotta ask me to tell you about the Big D experience."

"No. This is fucking stupid."

"C'mon," says I, says I. "Don't be L7."

"El seven? Like, Spanish for the seven?"

"A square, you fag. Ask me."

He sighs. "Fine. What's up on the Big D experience?"

"It's about nine inches long and as thick as a redbull can," says I, says I, winking. "Don't worry, Bobammarammarakobamma. My little buddy and I are on the case."

"Are you going to scour the great forest and take him down?"

"I gotta better idea," says I, says I, winking. "Trust me. We'll take care of it."

I get up and nod Sonic towards the door.

"You'd better," Bobamma says. "The planet is counting on you."

* * *

><p>Later, when I'm stuffing one dollar bills down the stripper's G string, I notice Sonic glancing around the place uncomfortably.<p>

"What's the matter, little buddy? Don't like squirrels? Or females? Is it the females? Because I'm not going to _those _kinds of strip clubs."

"Um. No, that's not it. Am I, uh. Even supposed to be in here right now?"

"What do you mean? It's open and shit."

"I'm thirteen, Tails."

"I think you neglected to notice the key word in that sentence you just spoke. I'm Tails. Tails MotherFucking Prower. You're alright, trust me. You helped me take down Snively and his fat little nephew when you were only eight. I think you're emotionally mature enough at this point to handle some titties in your face. My little Sonic is growing up."

"But I-"

I stop listening and stuff another one into her nethers and nod towards my little buddy. She struts over to him, pulling her panties down, cash raining down onto the stage. Bending over backwards to place her muff right in front of his face.  
>I am satisfied.<p>

Thirty dollars and six shots of whiskey later and he's trying to talk again.

"How is this getting us any closer to Snively?"

"It isn't. He's dead. Bobamma's an idiot. Wanna get closer to Snively? Try using a shovel."

I laugh at my own joke, because I'm funny.

"Than why would-"

"Shhh, Sonic. You talk too much. You should learn to enjoy life without your own worthless commentary. I like to call it spacing out. I do it all the time."

"How do you know Snively is dead?"

"Because I killed him, boy! We both did. It was like a team effort and whatnot."

"Yeah, but how do you know he died? Did you see it with your own eyes? Did you feel his pulse?"

"That's a pretty good question. I... think so?"

"Isn't it a little early for you to be drinking?"

"Isn't it a little dumb for you to be so goddamn dumb? All the time."

"Uh. I'm not sure I-"

* * *

><p>Then everything turns white and I'm torn from the universe. I can hear them chanting in robotic voices and I'm not so who they are or why they're here or where they come from but I think I'm gonna throw up and I think my nose is blee-<p>

* * *

><p>Oh. Shit.<br>Where am I?

I can't see anything and my head hurts. I'm standing, I think, or at least, I think I'm standing. It feels kinda like I am standing.

Then, he appears before me, in all his whimpy glory. His pale, bald head, his long, slender neck that disappears into his black cloak.

"Why do you wear that thing?" I ask. "It's not only impractical, but stupid. And so overdone. I mean, Jesus. You might as well wear long black coat and dual wield pistols that never run out of ammo."

"It matters not," he replies, that dumb, smug look on his face. "You've just stepped into a steaming pile of shit that you'll never be able to scrape off your shoe."

"I don't like shit on my shoes," I says, I says.

"Nobody does," he says, smiling. "But your foot just landed in the motherload."

"What if I just buy new shoes?"

"You can't."

"Can so," I rebuttal. "Watch me."

"We'll see..."

"Who cares? You're dead anyways. I killed you so hard."

"You'll see," he says, he says. "You'll all s-"

* * *

><p>Then I woke up with the taste of blood in my mouth.<p>

Sonic is shaking me and asking me if I'm okay.

"I'm okay," I say. "I'm okay."

"You sure?"

"Sure, sure. Sure times two. What time is it?"

"3:00 PM."

"Really? That early?"

"I think your nose is bleeding," he says, he says.

"Fuck that," I says, I says. "Men don't bleed. The occasional leakage, maybe, but, you know."

"What on Mobius are you talking abou-"

"I need to go outside," says I, struggling to get up. "I need to make the fuzzies go away."

I wasn't lying when I said that out loud just now and there's the exit I can see it right in front of me tilting to the right and to the left and to the right or maybe I'm just stumbling too hard  
>Fuck it.<p>

Press body against door and I'm temporarily blinded by the brightness that hits me in the face as I collapse into the guardrail and tumble down the ramp and open my eyes to see it.  
>The Death Egg, rising high above the city and blocking out the sun, casting us into shadow.<p>

The door opens, slamming loudly into the adjacent wall as Sonic frantically sprints through.

"Tails!" he shouts. "Are you alright?"

"Bobammaramma finally did it," I says, I says. "He said something would happen and it actually happened. I guess Snively isn't dead after all."

"What are we gonna do, Tails?"

"Sonic?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you know Australians spend Christmas in the summertime?"

"No. I had no idea."

"Imagine Santa Clause in a Hawaiian shirt and shorts. Flip-flops and he's standing next to a barbecue. Isn't that imagery simply mind-boggling?"

"I guess so.."

"Yeah. Hell yeah, it is."

"Tails?"

"Yeah, little guy?"

"What does all of that mean? Like, what's a Christmas?"

"I haven't a clue, little guy. I haven't a fucking clue."


	2. Cueball, corner pocket

As you look to the skies, you start to feel a bit stupid.. But you should probably keep that under wraps.  
>Can't let the little guy detect weakness. It would crush him.<br>Wipe the blood off your muzzle and onto the fur on your left forearm.

"Right," you sez, you sez. "That was all part of the plan. I told you I knew what I was doing."

"No, you didn't. You said that-"

"Nevermind what I said, boy. What I say and what I do are completely different things."

"I'm not sure I understand."

"I'm not sure you ever will," you sez, you sez.

You look to the sky and wonder how he managed to appear out of nowhere. Gaze dropping downward to notice the people gathering around in the street.  
>"You start to wonder what in the name of god you're supposed to do next."<p>

"Are you talking to yourself?"

"Yes. No. What was the question?"

"Are you talking to yourself?"

"We need to call Boobles. Clue him in on this disastrophe."

"Don't you mean _disaster_? Or _catastrophe_?"

"No," you sez, you sez. "No, I don't."

"Tails?" Your little buddy asks, timidly.

"Yep?"

"I think you have a drinking problem," he sez, he sez.

"The only drinking problem I have is that there isn't a whiskey in my hand."

"That's not what I meant."

"Is there a payphone around here?"

* * *

><p>"Oh, yeah, baby," the stripper sez into the receiver, leaning against the payphone and looking at her fake plastic nails. "When I get home, I'm gonna make your pinky alllllll stiiiiinkyyyyy."<p>

You can't help but slightly be aroused by the pink hedgehog in the schoolgirl outfit. Talking dirty to someone while on break from shaking her titties.  
>Just your kind of whore.<p>

"Okay," she sez, she sez. "I love you, too. Bye."

She hangs up the phone and turns to walk away, but you have to say something to stop her. It's in your blood, and more importantly, your loins.  
>Your burning, erect loins.<p>

"Your boyfriend know you're stripping?" you ask.

"Girlfriend," she sez, smirking.

"Even better," you reply. "You want a little meat action on that sexy little sammich? I'm an awesome multitasker."

"Thanks, but no thanks. You're just not my type."

"Whaaaaaat? Don't dig on fox? That's just racist."

"I don't dig on dick, boy," she sez, she sez.

"I could change that sexy little mind of yours with the head of my throbbing member against the inside walls of your tight little cunt."

"My girlfriend takes care of that just fine," she sez, she sez.

"Strapons?"

"No. Yes."

"You ever pitch, or do you just catch?"

"We trade off," she sez, she sez.

"You ever slap her in the face with it?"

"Nooooo. Yes. Jesus, how do you know this shit?"

"I've been around the block a few times," sez you, sez you. "Isn't it empowering?"

"Slapping a girl in the face with a fake cock?"

"Kinda, yeah. Your cock, specifically. Isn't having a cock in general empowering?"

"It kinda is," she sez, she sez, blushing. "What's your name?"

"Tails," you sez, you sez. Suavely.

"THE Tails?"

"You know of any super sexy foxes with two tails?"

"No. No, I don't s'pose I do."

"What's _your_ name?"

"Amy," she sez, she sez. "Amy Rose."

"THE Amy Rose?"

"You've... heard of me?"

"No," you sez, you sez, chuckling. "I'm just fucking with you. How about a private dance later?"

"You got money?" she asks, raising her eyebrow.

"Honey, I'm Tails. I've got a stack of one-dollar mobiums with your name on it," you say, winking.

"My," she sez, she sez, sarcastically. "You really know how to impress a lady."

"Bitch, Impressive is my middle name."

"What's your last name?"

"The Fox," you sez, you sez. "My whole name is Tails Impressive, The Mothefucking Fox. Baby."

"So, wait, is your last name Baby?"

"No, it's The Fox," you sez, you sez. "Don't you listen?"

"I heard somewhere that your real name was Miles Prower."

"That's a lie perpetuated by the liberal media."

"What's a liberal media?"

"Fuck if I know. What's your stripper name?"

"Bubbles."

"Bubbles?"

"Bubbles. Like the champagne."

"I'll ask for you," you say, picking up the receiver and shoving coins into the dirty phone's slot.

You punch some buttons with numbers on them and it rings until he answers. And shit.

"Hey, Boobles."

"Don't call me that, Tails."

"We found him. We found Snively."

"Yeah, I know," he sez, he sez. "The entire city of Mobotropolis found him."

"If I were you, I'd call the city Mobamatropolis. But that's just me, though."

"Cut the shit, Tails. What are you going to do about it?"

"You want me to... make a poopie?" you ask, confused.

"What?"

"You told me to cut the shit. Is that, like, cutting a fart? Only with, like, you know. Poop."

"Jesus Christ, Tails."

"Calm down, Boobles," you sez, you sez. "I'm just fucking with you. What's a Jesus Christ, anyway?"

"Well, in my culture-"

"Nevermind. Don't care. Don't even want to. We need to enlist the help of Mister Hands.

"Jesus Christ, you don't mean-"

"It's Tails. And yes, before you ask, he's probably still totally pissed off at me."

"This can't be a good idea, Tails."

"Don't question me, Boobles. You don't tell me how to do my job, and I won't tell your black ass how to do the C-Walk."

"What the fuck is a C-Walk?"

"I dunno," sez you, sez you. "It's supposed to be popular amongst African American youth."

"I have no idea what that means."

"Neither do I," you sez, you sez.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Tails."

"Me, too, Boobles."

"That's not reassuring. Like, at all."

"It never was and always will be. Peace, love and fried chicken," you say, hanging up. "Now, about that private dance."

* * *

><p>"So, baby, how would you like to go on an adventure?" you ask, while she grinds her ass against your manhood.<p>

"What kind of adventure?" she asks, not missing a beat. My, this 'hog can grind.  
>And grind she does.<p>

"The kind where we kill Snively again and become heroes. And maybe you blow me while your girlfriend tickles my scrotum."

"That sounds sexy. Except for that last part."

"Mmmmm... What's your girlfriend's name?"

"Sally," she sez, she sez.

"She a 'hog, like you?"

She stops grinding you and slaps you in the face, which, oddly enough, turns you on more.

"Oh, my," you sez, you sez. "Do that again. I think I just found my new kink."

"It's hedgehog, dick. And you said I was the racist one."

"Sorry, jeez. Hedgehog. I was abbreviating. Is she a hedgehog?"

"No, she's a squirrel," she sez, she sez, resuming her grinding.

"Ah. I see. A nut-hoarder. Ironic that she'd be a lesbian, and all."

SLAP.

"Did you listen to a single fucking word I said?"

"Yeah, actually," you sez, you sez. "I did that on purpose. I just wanted you to slap me in the face again. My god, that is fucking hot."

"You're fucked up," she sez, she sez, flatly. Grinding you.

"Don't I know it. Think I could get a handy?"

"I'm a stripper, not a hooker," she sez, she sez.

"That wasn't the question. Happy ending? That was the question."

"The answer is no."

"Balls."

* * *

><p>You're staring at Amy's tits while Sonic tries to start up The Tornado.<p>

"Could you, uh. Could you not do that?"

"Not do what?" you sez, you sez.

"Stare at my tits? It's making me uncomfortable."

"Oh, that. I'm just reading your shirt. Trying to read your shirt, that is. Your tits are in the way."

"My shirt doesn't say anything."

"Yeah, I know," you sez, you sez. "But there's an awful purdy set of boobs hanging out under there. Can I touch them?"

"No," she sez, she sez.

That's when the engine kicks on. She starts shouting at you, but you can't understand what she's trying to convey to you.

"**WHAT**?"

"**WHERE. ARE. WE. SUPPOSED. TO. SIT**?"

You respond by grabbing her forearms and working your ass muscles.  
>By the time you fly her up to the top set of wings, she's screaming about something and your buttcheeks are sore.<br>You're out of breath, too.  
>"Perhaps you should work out more."<p>

"**WHAT**?" she calls out.

"**HOLD ONTO ME**," you sez, you sez. "**TIGHT**. Nnnnh."

The biplane takes off as she squeezes your forearms to brace for the G's. You've done this many times before, so, obviously, you're okay.  
>The rush even gets you off a little.<p>

That's when and why it happens.

"-**OULD OO AH**~**ONER**?"

"**WHAT**?"

"**COULD YOU NOT HAVE A BONER**?"

It's the adrenaline. Don't worry about it.  
>And that's when you grab her tits.<p>

* * *

><p>"Here, you're gonna want one of these sweaters," you sez, you sez, handing out a woolen top in each hand while wearing one yourself. "It's fucking cold out here."<p>

Amy just stares at you with her arms crossed.  
>"I wouldn't be caught dead in that thing."<p>

"Your loss," you sez, you sez, putting the extra one on over your own while Sonic puts his on. Like a good little slut.

"It's your fault we're in this mess."

"Hey, now. The plane crashed because you jumped off of the wing and into the cockpit. Somehow."

"I _was_ blinded," Sonic adds, earnestly.

"By her tits, right?" you sez, you sez, throwing your arms into the air. "Thank god I'm not the only one."

"I, uh-" Sonic starts.

"You mean the tits you manhandled, causing this accident?"

"Yeah, those tits. Only, how could you possibly have a set of boobs that magnificent and not expect people to grab them from time to time? I mean, like, how selfish are you?"

"Fuck you," she sez, she sez, turning around.

"What, like, in the butt? You want me to put it there? Is that why you turned around while you said that? I don't have any lube. Well, I suppose I could spit on it. You know. To lube it up a little bit."

She sighs, disgustedly, and walks away from you.

"Her loss," you say to Sonic, shrugging. "She's gonna get all cold and shit and come begging for this sweater. And for my cock. And I'm not gonna give it to her."

"Tails?"

"Nnnn'yesss?"

"Why did you bring a stripper on this mission?"

"To, uh. Keep my spirits up? Yeah, we'll go with that one."

"I don't think she likes you," Sonic sez.

"Pfft. Fuck that. She loves me. Know how I know, little bro?"

"How's that?"

"Eye contact, bro. Eye contact."

"But you make eye contact with everyone you come in contact with. Even me."

"Slow your roll, cowboy. Closest you and I are getting is at opposite ends of Little Miss Slutbag over there."

"I thought she was a stripper."

"Same diff, bro. You wanna run the train on her with me later?"

"Run the... train?"

"Eh, you'll find out when you're ready. Any chance in hell on you fixing that there Tornado, there?"

"Tails," he sez, he sez. "It exploded."

You stare at the blackened wreckage for a moment before snapping out of your daze.  
>"Oh yeah," you sez, you sez. "I suppose it did."<p>

"Tails?"

"Yeah, little buddy?"

"Are we gonna die?"

You look around at your desolate surroundings of the snowy mountains around you and you think for a moment.

"Honestly? Probably, yeah. We're probably gonna die here, little bro."

That's when Sonic begins to cry like a little girl.

* * *

><p>You're pissing your name into the snow with golden letters when you hear her stuttering voice.<p>

"T-tails?"

"Finally come crawling back to Big Papa Tails to plug your pooper, eh? I don't blame you," you sez, you sez, dotting your i with a controlled spurt of urine. "I don't blame you. I have that effect on most bitches. You're not Mormon, are you?"

"N-no, you fucking retard. My c-clothes..."

"Too skimpy for the mountains, right? Should have taken the sweater."

"F-froze. Shattered off my b-body."

"Wait, you're naked?" you ask, quickly turning around to see her curled up into a ball in the snow, covering her tits with her knees. Shaking. Almost violently.  
>Hello, intrigue.<p>

"Quickly," you sez, you sez, rubbing your hands together in a dastardly fashion. "Lay flat on your stomach. I must warm you up with frictions."

"Just give me the sweater, you shithead."

"You said you wouldn't be caught dead in this sweater. I'm afraid it's written in my code to never let a stripper lie to herself. Nope, we'd better have sex. Buttsex, to be precise."

"No," she sez, she sez, through chattering teeth. "N-not that. Never that."

"Well, I can't let you just die, now, can I? It's not in my blood, see. I'll think of something."

"Give me the fucking sweater. Please. I'm gonna fucking die, I know it."

"Nonononononooo. We've already ruled that one out, remember?"

"Noooo," she whines.

Thinking critically, you come up with a solution to get you both out of this pickle you're in.

"Amy," you sigh, you sigh. "I'm gonna have to poop on you."

"**WHAT**?" she shrieks. "No.** NO**!"

"It's the only way. I mean, unless buttsex is still an option."

"Just kill me fast," she cries, she begs, sobbing into her knees, face buried between her sexy, sexy legs. " Just fucking put me out of my misery, so I don't have to suffer!"

"This is for the better. For your own good," you sez, you sez, pulling your trousers down and struggling with your belt.  
>"Wait, when did you start to wear pants?"<p>

"Wh-what? Are you talking to yourself right now?"

"Hold still," you sez, you sez, reassuringly. "I'm just gonna scrub you down with mookie stinks. It won't hurt a bit, I promise. Honest injun."

"No! Nooooo!"

She's weakly trying to crawl away in vain, but your walking speed is too fast for her.  
>You approach her with the lightning quickness of a snail's pace, line the rim of your pants up with the bottom of your buttcheeks, lift your tails, and hose her down with hot diarrhea.<p>

"Oh, shit," you sez, you sez. "You get to be my age, and you start praying for solid poop."

Amy is screaming and crying and incoherently babbling when Sonic excitedly skips up to the two of you.

"You guys! You guys! We don't have to freeze to death! I made a sled out of the wreckage of the biplane! We're saved again by The Tornado!"

"That's awesome, little buddy!" you exclaim, pulling your pants up, buckling the belt and raising your right hand up as high as you can. "High five, little bro!"

But he leaves you hanging. Like always.  
>Tilting his head to the side and staring at you with a confused expression on his face.<p>

"Why is Amy crying?" he asks, timidly. Again. "And what's that all over her body?"

"That's poop, little guy," you sez, you sez, leaning as close as you can to his underdeveloped face and resting your tired hands on the boy's tiny little shoulders. "And a stripper that isn't crying? Well, that's like Santa Clause in flip-flops! Standing next to a barbecue, even!"

"Tails?"

"Mmm?"

"What's a Santa Clause?"

"You got me!" you sez, you sez. "But I've got a boner a mile long just thinking about it!"


	3. Pinky the stinky

"Why is she covered in poop?"

You ever have one of those days where it seems like the hornets are just kind of following you around?

Tails is not having one of those days.  
>Amy Rose, on the other hand, is.<p>

Sonic is his usual timid and reserved self, and Knuckles is staring at all three of them with an expression on his face that says so, so, so, so many things.  
>Anger. Confusion. Disgust. Hatred. Sadness. Frustration. The list goes on.<p>

Not even he could tell you how he feels about what he sees. All he knows is that he doesn't like it.

"Oh, that," he says, glancing over at her. She's been in shock since the ride down the mountain. "She was freezing to death in the mountains. I'm afraid I had to poop on her to save her life."

"I don't even want to ask you about the logic behind that. Why was she naked in the mountains, again?"

"She's a stripper. We were going to have anal sex."

This snaps her out of her trance. "You son of a bitch! That's not even-"

"Nevermind," Knuckles sez, he sez. "I don't even want to know. What the hell are you doing here?"

Amy begins sobbing uncontrollably.

"We need your help, Mr. Hands," Tails sez, he sez.

"The name," he replies, through clenched teeth, "is Knuckles."

"Knuckles, Mr. Hands. Whatever. Who cares. At least Mr. Hands has a formal ring to it, instead of making you sound like some numbskull."

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"Come off it, Hands. Your name makes me picture a neanderthal with arms longer than his body and a constantly furrowed brow."

"And this," he sez, he sez, "is why I'm not gonna help you."

"Honesty is little more than the truth on wheels."

"I don't even know what to make of that dumbass statement. Not at all. Do you even think about the stupid shit you say before it comes out of your stupid fucking mouth?"

"No," Tails sez, he sez. "Not really."

"You should look into that," he says, flatly. "You'll look less retarded to the general public, that way."

"The public loves me," Tails retorts, snorting. "Only losers like you who are still butthurt over trivial shit think I'm stupid."

"Trivial? What? You sank my island! You've reduced me to a fucking mountain hermit."

"Oh, boohoo, fag. I was the one who got hurt during the crash."

"You sprained your ankle while destroying my home and taking a big, gigantic shit all over centuries of heritage, just like you did to your disgusting little girlfriend, there."

"I am not his-"

"Hooker, whatever. I don't care. Get the fuck out of here, all of you."

She starts shrieking again and Tails' head starts to throb.

"Snively's back, you dickhead. Stop being so fucking selfish and save the fucking world.:

"I don't wanna," he says, crossing his arms.

"Is there a place I could wash myself off around here?" Amy asks, sniffling.

"I don't want you contaminating my water supply," he sez, he sez.

She falls to her knees, defeated.

"C'mon, Knuckles. Don't be a dick."

"I'm not letting a stripper who is covered in your mookie stinks to wash herself in my pond. That's fucking disgusting. What if I get the plague? Huh, Tails? I'm being a dick because I don't want the plague? Fuck that, Tails. Fuck that right in the face."

"Not that, man," Tails sez, he sez, getting in close and guiding him away from the rest of the group. "Think about it. You're not helping me, here. You're helping yourself. Think of all the money, all the women. All the fame and recognition. The blowjobs, Knux. Think about the blowjobs."

"I'm not really a fan of blowjobs," he sez, he sez.

"Um. Excuse me? You are, indeed, a mobian, correct?"

"Well, yeah, but-"

"Trust me, Knux. If you don't love blowjobs, you aint mobian. Even women love blowjobs."

"You give me the choice, I'll have her bent over before on her knees any day.

"I love buttsex as much as the next guy, Handsy-poo, you know that. You do this for us, man? No, wait. Scratch that. You do this for yourself and you can stick that cock of yours in whatever orifice you want. You can fistfuck their bellybuttons if you so desire."

"Fistfuck their bellybuttons?"

"Yeah, you strike me as the type who got off on that kind of thing."

"Whatever. This isn't even how it went down last time, why would it happen this time?"

"These are different times, Hands. Things have changed since Knothole. An entire city of sexually deviant and frustrated girls is gonna be at your disposal, swinging from your very testicles. And do you know why?"

'Why's that, Tails?"

"Because you're a hero. Not just once, but twice, and we'll made damn sure you're around to reap the benefits this time."

"I suppose I could lend a knuckle," he sez, he sez, raising his fist. "You gotta tap it, though, dog."

"Uh, sure," he says, tapping his knuckle against Knuckles' knuckle. "That's the spirit, Hands."

"It's Knuckles."

"Yeah, whatever. The question is how we're going to get out of this. Now, I know you're asking yourself how we're gonna get out of this. Worry not about that, baby I gotcha covered," Tails says, winking.

"Don't call me baby. I am not your baby."

"You're no Pfeiffer, Mr. Hands. No Pfeiffer at all. Are you in, or not?"

"Oh, I'm in," he sez, he sez, batting his eyelashes.

"Alright. But you gotta promise not to be such a fag about it the whole time," Tails sez, he sez, pushing a button on his watch and looking up to the sky.

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about," he sez, he sez, the universe around everyone flashing brightly, baffling everyone.

"What the f-" Amy starts to say, but she's cut off by the sheer awesomeness of the tractor beam.

As we all are.

* * *

><p>Next thing we know, we're all stuck to a giant magnet, attached to a large, mysterious crane. Our bodies flat against it, looking down at the scenery of Mobius, passing by beneath us.<p>

"What the fuck is this?" asks Mr. Hands, being his usual Negative Nancy self. "This, like everything else associated with you, makes zero sense. Zero goddamn sense. Is this a thing? Is this really happening right now?"

"Yes," Tails responds, flatly. "It's a thing, it is happening right now, and to be quite frank, Hands, it makes about as much sense as Santa Clause on the beach throwing prawns on the barby."

"What the fuck does any of this shit mean? Do you just TRY to say the dumbest shit you can possibly think of, or are you really just this stupid for real?"

"I plead the fifth," he says, he says.

"The fifth?"

"Yes, asshole. The fifth amendment of the US constitution. The right to not answer your question on the grounds that it might incriminate me."

"I have no idea what any of that means," Knuckles says, annoyed. "Not a fucking clue."

"Guys?" Amy sez, she sez. "I don't feel so good."

"Are you okay?" Sonic asks, concerned.

"She's fine," Tails, sez, he sez. "She's just looking for attention. Don't mind her."

"No," she sez, she sez. "I really don't feel goo-"  
>She's cut off by a stream of bloody vomit. Everybody but Tails looks shocked.<p>

"Gross," Tails sez, he sez. "You'd better not have the plague, or I'm not sleeping with you."

"You will NEVER sleep with m-" she starts gagging. "Oh, god."

"Your lies," Tails sez, she sez. "You're choking on your lies and you deserve it for lying."

"You're an asshole, Tails," Knuckles sez, he sez.

"Yeah," he replies. "Yeah.."

* * *

><p>"Waaaahhhhhhh!" they all scream in unison.<p>

The gang is unexpectedly crashing through the ceiling of Obama's office and smashing his desk into scrapwood. Wooden shards and splinters, launching from the once complete structure coating the room in debris.

Somebody hacks.  
>Nobody knows who it was.<p>

"Actually," Sonic sez, "that was me. I coughed."

Knuckles is immediately infuriated. He stands up, quickly, marches over to her and punches Sonic in the stomach, right then and there. Sonic doubling over, face turning red as he falls to his knees, struggling to breathe and coughing up blood.

He's rolling around the floor, coughing, too weak to even cry like the pathetic little girl he really is.

"Why," he wheezes. "Whyyyyyy..."

"Your bodily functions offend me, Sonic. Keep them to a minimum. And by keep them to a minimum, I mean I don't want them to even exist. Got it, faggot?"

"But I'm not a-"

Knuckles kicks Sonic in the gut and he shuts up. Rightfully so.  
>He shouldn't have been so Mobian.<p>

There is such a thing as too Mobian. Tails is sure that Sonic will cry about this later, and he'll just have to tell him to walk it off.

He'll listen to Tails. He looks up to Tails.  
>I, uh. I think.<p>

And that's when Obama opens the door and walks into his office.

"What the fuck!"

"Yeah, sorry," Tails sez, he sez, dusting himself off. "You missed out cool entrance. Badass, if I do say so, myself. Right fellas?"

Amy throws up all over the woodpile.  
>Knuckles glares at her threateningly. Clenching his fist and teeth. A fire growing in his eyes the likes of which Tails had only seen in the mirror, in his own reflection while furiously masturbating.<p>

"You really should stop narrating your life out loud like that, Tails. The fact that you don't remain consistent with points of view is not only creepy, but very alarming. I sometimes worry about your sanity as well as the clear depravity of which you are likely host to."

Tails farts and starts laughing.  
>Obama just stares, slackjawed and speechless.<p>

"Tails, you've pulled a lot of shit in your time, but this... this..."

"I know, right?"

"How did you even pull this off?"

"A giant magnet and a crane. That's not important, boobles, what's important is what I need. You see, Snively is back, Barrack. And he means to TCB."

"Alright, first off, my name is Barack Obama, not Bear-rack Obamma. Second, I'm the one who told you about Snively, which you might remember, if you ever tried this little thing called paying attention, and third, what the fuck is a TCB?"

"Take Care-a Bidness, baby. You know. Like Elvis. Only, instead of layin' out good gyrations, he's gyrating for evil. You know. Evil gyrations."

"I'm not even going to begin to try to figure out what that means. What the fuck are you doing in my office?"

"That's an interesting question, boobles. Allow me to retort."

"That might not be the best context to-"

"Can it, boobles. I need guns. Guns

* * *

><p>We interrupt this fanfickshunz to bring you an important public service announcement about the importance of lying.<p>

Lying is essential to your life. It's the glue that holds our universe together. It's the yummy candy on which you feed after dinner. It keeps you alive, it makes you feel good again.

The truth is cold and ugly. The truth will destroy you, crumbling your very existence down upon your vulnerable, naked, cowering body. It is the greatest weapon of mass destruction known to man.

Lie to your mother.

Lie to your father.

Lie to your children.

Lie to your friends.

Lie to your family.

Lie to your preacher.

Lie to your country.

Lie to your teacher.

Lie to your people.

Lie to your diety.

But most importantly, lie to yourself. Lie to yourself. Lie to yourself. Lie to yourself. Lie to yourself. Lie to yourself. Lie to yourself. Lie to yourself. Lie to yourself. Lie to yourself. Lie to yourself. Lie to yourself. Lie to yourself. Lie to yourself. Lie to yourself. Lie to yourself.

* * *

><p>and a plane and oodles of those disposable minions of yours."<p>

"Those are all tied up, I'm afraid."

"The guns?"

"No, the minions. See, they're overseas, fighting the war in Iraq."

"I don't know what Iraq is, but I don't reckon I like the sound of it," Tails sez, he sez.

"I don't, neither," Boboobles sez, shaking his head, eyes closed. "That's why I need all my disposable minions there, taking care of the camel jockeys. Wiping them out."

"Camel jockeys, sir?"

"Vicious beasts. They're hungry for blood and oil. And blood."

"Sounds niggardly."

"Watch what you say in my presence, chump," Obama sez, he sez.

"Niggardly is a synonym for greedy, sir."

"You're thinking of Jewish, furfag. I don't want any racial intolerance in my office."

"I don't know what any of that means, Boboobles, and I don't care. Not one bit. You want pest control, you call an exterminator. You want ass-kickin', you call Tails Motherfucking Prower. Now, I need guns and a biplane and I need them now.

"Obama closes his eyes and draws in a deep breath. "What's she covered in?"

"Poop, sir. My poop."

"Why is this girl covered in your poop?"

"She's a stripper, sir. And I pooped on her to prevent a likely case of hypothermia. It gets cold at the top of a mountain, sir. Especially if you're naked."

"Another good question. Why was she naked on top of a mountain?"

"She's a stripper, sir. Also, we were kicking around the idea of buttsex."

"No. My clothes froze," Amy sez, dry heaving. "Shattered off my body."

"What's wrong with her?"

"We think she has the plague, sir, but we can't be too certain." The rest of the crew nods solemnly.

"Can't be too careful, either," he says, he says, bringing his watch up to his mouth and pressing a button down on the side of it. "There's a Code Brown in Big Papa's office, I repeat, a Code Brown in Big Papa's office."

That's when two large men in biohazard suits kick the door in and accost poor Amy, tazering her and dragging her screaming, kicking body out the door and down the hall.

"What's gonna happen to her?" Sonic inquires, eyes wide and curious, his finger in front of his mouth, cartoonishly.

"She'll be quarantined and liquidated for testing, as will you be if you continue asking questions. Understood?"

"Um. Are you threatening me?"

"Again with the questions," he says, chuckling and resting his hand on the young hedgehog's shoulder as he kneels down to his size. He looks lovingly into his eyes for a moment before the chuckling dries up and his gaze turns sour. Closing in. Faces only centimeters apart. "Enough. Of. The. Fucking. Questions. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," Sonic gulps.

"Good," Obama says, regaining his posture and smiling falsely while dusting his jacket off with the palms of his hands. "Good. Good, good. Yes, excellent. I'm glad we cleared all of this up. Now, where were we?"

"Guns and a biplane."

"Ah, yes," Obama says, straightening his tie. "Follow me."

* * *

><p>"Are you sure you don't want something with more seats than, uh. Just one?"<p>

"I think we should hear the president out on this," Knuckles sez.

"I can deal. I don't like things that are different. Stop being such a pussy, Hands."

"My name is Knuckles."

"Quiet, Hands, the grownups are talking," Tails sez, he sez. "The biplane is what we know. If we stray from what we know, we fuck the whole plan up."

"I can't argue with stupidity."

"My momma always used to say stupid is as Obama does, suh. Right up until 2008, when we lost her to the plague."

"That's the year I was elected, Miles."

"She really wasn't feeling you as a candidate."

"Did you poop on her, too?" Knuckles asks.

"No. Yes. Maybe. Shit, I dunno, man. Things happen. Stuff, too. People get pooped on sometimes. Do you remember every peanut butter and mayonnaise sammich you've ever had in your whole life?"

"I don't recall that I've eaten any peanut butter and mayonnaise sandwiches in my ti-"

"Yeah, well, in the same vein as that, I don't remember how many people I've pooped on. Or who, for that matter. You want me to remember how many breaths I took on September 12th, 1992, while we're at it? How about how many times I jerked off last Christmas? Anything else you want to ask me, Knuckles?"

"Did your parents drop you on your head a lot when you were an infant?"

"My mother has arthritis. Leave her out of this. She was a good mother."

"Obviously," Knuckles snickers.

"Enough!" Obama shouts through a megaphone. "Act like professionals, for god's sake! You're acting like a bunch of buffoons!"

"I assure you, sir," Tails sez, he sez, solemnly. "I am not a buffoon."

"Whatever," Obama says, sighing. "What are you going to do to bring this menace to justice?"

"I wouldn't worry about that if I was you, Boboobles," Tails sez, he sez, licking his lips. "I got a masterplan."

* * *

><p>"Why are we stopping here, Tails? The Death Egg is that way," Knuckles exclaims, stating the obvious and pointing behind him to the giant floating orb in the sky. Emitting light of every color and shade, tearing through the night sky.<p>

"I gotta make a stop real quick," Tails sez, he sez. "This is for Amy."

"Who's Amy again?"

"The stripper that had the plague," Sonic sez, hopping out of the biplane.

"That's a terrible way to put that, Sonic," Tails sez, he sez, he sez, he sez. "Show some respect for the dead."

"No, but, um."

"No buttum. You're goddamn right, no buttum. Now, you two stay here, alright? I don't want either of you idiots mucking this up."

"Tails?"

"Yeah, little bro?"

"Is it legal to park the biplane on the street like this?"

"Probably not, no."

* * *

><p>and the lights, the lights, he can't look away from the lights.<p>

* * *

><p>The door opens to reveal a sexy, confused squirrel all dolled up in tight, lacy black lingerie.<p>

"Are you Sally Acorn?"

"Yeah?" she asks, taking a drag off her cigarette. "What do you want?"

"I'm sorry to inform you of this, but your girlfriend is dead."

Gasp. "Amy?"

* * *

><p>Fingers digging into the harsh metal edge of the wing, eyes widening, frozen. He can feel himself breaking apart. He wants to turn, he wants to run, he wants to break away from this, but he can't fucking<p>

* * *

><p>"How did she go?"<p>

"The plague, dear. She caught and fell victim to the plague. I kept her alive as long as I could, but..." he trails off, eyes filling with tears.  
>Blinking them away, painfully.<p>

"Did she say anything?" Sally asks, whispering. "Did she say anything before she... passed?"

"Her dying wish was for me to make sex in your butt. But, I dunno," he sez, he sez, sniffling. "I dunno if I can."

"Shhhhh," she says, pulling him in close and kissing him on the lips. "We have to. Out of respect for the dead."

* * *

><p>the light is consuming me and he cannot move, you cannot see, and you cannot<p>

* * *

><p>Spit on it. (<br>lube it up a little bit)

roughly stuffing his throbbing slippery helmet through her puckering sphincter, right up the pooper and into them guts

* * *

><p>I cannot feel, he cannot feel anything but the warmth and it feels so right and it feels so perfect it just feels so just and we have something of a moment of clarity before it all comes crashing down on us<p>

* * *

><p>"Ye.h, ..n. Shit was like throwing another shrimp on the barby."<p>

"They call them prawns in Australia."

"What's a prawn?"

"What's a shrimp?"

"What's a barb..."

"... a. ...tralia?"

. ...'t know.  
>I don't know.<br>I don't know.  
>I don't know.<br>I don't know.  
>I don't know.<br>I don't know.  
>I don't know.<br>I don.. ...


	4. Everything is everything

We enter the void together.  
>Head splitting, lights flashing violently.<p>

Black.  
>White.<br>Red.  
>Yellow.<p>

Our fists tightening. Brains melting.  
>Oh, ha. Hahaha.<p>

Our friends, gone.  
>Friends. Let us consider the following. Do we really care about them? Do we really need them?<p>

Fuck. No.  
>We mustn't think like this. We mustn't.<p>

Everything has gone dark, save for a speck of bright light in the distance.  
>Like a star.<p>

We can feel the warmth as we move towards it.

We are hear. That is to say, we sense our own presence in a way we've never quite experienced before.

It's cold. Cold and ugly. Our pace picks up, kicking off into a full sprint.

Inhale. Exhale.  
>Muscles burning.<br>Head light.

Despite the cold, our fur mats to our skin with sweat.  
>Body wanting to give up, to collapse.<br>Push harder.

Tails working, propelling me forward. Feet leaving the ground, the tips of my toes barely dragging against the ground as I fly through the infinite towards an uncertain goal.

* * *

><p>Heads or Tails?<p>

* * *

><p>The grave look on our teacher's face as she leans in close to us.<p>

Gym class. What a joke, we thought.

"I'm serious," she says, bending over to be on our level.  
>On our level. Ha.<br>"These kids haven't won a single game so far. Let them win this one."

"Maybe they should practice more. Or, perhaps, just be faster and better at the game in general."

"They're handicapped, Miles. This isn't fair for them."

"Life isn't fair," we say, smirking.

At times like this we think of Charles Darwin. Whoever that is.

"Let. Them. Win," she says before turning and walking away. We always had a competition within us. We always wanted to win. Especially when we were told we couldn't. We turn back to our own team and we approach with a deadly smile on our face.

"Guys," we say, nodding at Sonic and licking our lips. "I want you to give this one all you've got. Everything. I want this to be our most glorious victory yet.

* * *

><p>Reader might be confused.<br>Reader might not understand us.

We were headed for our sworn enemy in our respective dimensions. Clinging tightly to the wing on the biplane. Closing in on the death egg.  
>That's when the light flashed and the void opened up. He was planning for this. He wanted to ship us off to the void. To god knows where.<br>To oblivion.

That's what he wanted. What he didn't count on was a parallel dimension with the exact same events in motion, occurring at the exact same time and, well, getting in the way of things.  
>The other Tails. The dark one. I've always felt his presence, but never like this.<p>

We enter the void together.  
>We come out as one.<p>

Fur turning black and dark red, like his.  
>We are the Shadow.<p>

We grasp something in our hands out there, in the infinite darkness.  
>In the black hole.<p>

Our right hand wraps its freezing fingers around the cold metal.

The will.  
>Pure will alone.<br>The will to keep going.

We have a job to do.

* * *

><p>We're dangling from a platform near the bottom of the Death Egg.<br>Right hand losing strength. Left hand rises and grasps to reinforce grip. The whole world beneath us. We take a deep breath and feel alive. We pull ourselves up.

Does reader understand where we are now?  
>What we are?<p>

We lift ourselves to safety and onto our knees, where we watch a thousand SWATbots deploying all around us.  
>They don't even know we're here.<br>He thinks it's over. That makes our job so much simpler.

We pry open a vent and start climbing.

Our goals are not necessarily different, but not necessarily the same, either.

We have a common enemy.  
>Snively, whatever incarnation he may take, he must be destroyed.<p>

We're crawling through the ventilation system.

The Shadow wants me to hurt him this time.  
>Death simply won't be enough.<br>We want him to suffer this time.  
>We have to make sure.<br>We have to enjoy it.

Lights and colors flash before our eyes and we can taste it.

Muscles burning. Joints aching.  
>There is no room for failure.<p>

When we think about it, we go mad.  
>We get angry.<br>And that anger leaves our body and the vent around us begins to bend and break and fall apart while we stay in place as the bottom blasts through the ceiling beneath us, scattering shrapnel all over the floor below.  
>And we stay in place, floating there only by the threads of will alone.<p>

We can see the timeline shrinking into nothing more than a tiny dot. We watch ourselves begin, exist and end simultaneously.

The dot splashes against the void and goes on forever.

We smile as we descend.

* * *

><p>We are carrion hope.<br>We are the destruction of an insect underneath that of a greater being's boot.  
>We are the spider descending upon its prey, tangled and frightened.<p>

The bullets flying towards us, deflecting them with nothing but pure will just before they hit us. Ricocheting back at them, they fall by their own hands.  
>And we keep floating, keep moving towards the center of the structure.<p>

We are the ultimate lifeform, we think out loud as we push the lesser beings out of the way.  
>Crushing them, tearing them apart with our minds.<br>Fountains of blood and gore showering us.  
>Soaking our fur.<p>

We don't mind. We have a job to do.

Biological explosions.  
>Organs and bones and patches of dead fur line the floors and walla.<p>

That of traitors of our own kind.

Locked doors mean nothing to us. They force themselves open as we approach.

The taste of blood wetting our lips.

We are darkness.  
>We are destruction.<br>We are ultimate.

We exist on plane outside of ourselves. Outside of the universe itself as we know it.

We are not present, yet we are not absent. We are the blood and the knife.  
>We are the darkness within the light.<p>

We think of the world.

There's a lot that can be done.

We are two sides of the same coin. We've flipped ourselves. When we land, the one facing the sky will win.

* * *

><p>We worked hard, going faster than any of us thought possible. Dropping beanbag after beanbag into our hula-hoop laying there on the floor. We smiled as we saw the scowl on the face of the coach. We could almost taste her anger, and we enjoyed it.<p>

When the game was over, she announced the winner.

But it wasn't accurate. We had won, but she said they did, announcing an overall tie.

That's bullshit.

That's not the way the world works, we exclaim, angrily. We won and everybody knows it. These people aren't too stupid to count.

Through her teeth, she tells us to sit down and shut up.

We won't. We can't, even if we wanted to. If you give these people everything they want, they won't know how to hack it when they have nothing.  
>And they will. Eventually, they'll lose it all and because of people like you, they'll do nothing but cry about it instead of actually trying again and realizing their potential.<p>

And she tells us to sit down again.

We were always together. We could feel the shadows growing within us. Growing stronger.

Our fists clenched and the ground suddenly starts to shake. But this time it isn't us.  
>Not this time. Not us.<p>

This time, it's Snively.

* * *

><p>"I have to say," Snively says, standing up from his throne.<br>Monitors lining the walls and floors of this room. Even the ceiling.  
>A view from every single angle outside the ship. It's like flying, Floating through the skies of Mobius, watching the destruction of Mobotropolis.<p>

Ants being crushed by other ants. Buildings on fire.  
>It all falls down.<p>

"You never cease to surprise me, Tails."

We are not to be trifled with or underestimated, we say.

"We?" he asks, stupidly. His eyes widening and a smile creeping across his smug face. "Who is we?"

We are the ultimate lifeform. We are what you turned us into. We are grateful for this, however, we are your very reckoning.

He laughs. It's fake. We smile, too.

"The general public is so afraid to be saved from themselves," he says, pacing to his left, past his fat little nephew, Ivo, peeking around Snively's throne. Hiding.

But he isn't our target. He never has been. He's too frightened of his uncle to say no.

He's just another scared little puppet. Just another toy.  
>He's not what we want. Snively is what we want.<p>

"I offer them peace and they throw ugly words around. Slavery. Facism. With roboticization, you may not be in control of your own destiny, but honestly, with people like these existing, is that what you want? Wouldn't you rather live out a nicer one? For much longer?"

We take a step forward and he smiles. He's still moving to the left. We're pacing opposite ends of a circle.

"Someone has to keep them in line, don't you agree? Someone has to stop the madness."

We take a step forward.

We would be "smarter" than this if we were afraid of it.  
>Like we used to be.<p>

But we take another step forward and Snively smiles at us. His big, misaligned teeth flashing at us. Catching our attention. We smile, because we know something he doesn't.

"Why not let me?"

The glass tube drops around us and begins to fill with green smoke. But we're still smiling.

And he is, too.

But we know something he doesn't.

The glass around us shatters and the green smoke almost mushroom clouding outward.

We are stull smiling.  
>His smile degrades into nothing.<br>His lower jaw falls and his expression is that of shock and awe. We are still smiling as we race towards him and wrap our fingers and palms around his scrawny little neck. Smiling wide, bearing teeth as he struggles through our closing fists.  
>Drool leaking from our teeth and dripping down into her wide, popped open eyeball.<p>

Snively turns red and purple and blue and we laugh and laugh and laugh, coughing and spitting all over his stupid, dead, bald face as we drop his corpse and start laughing hysterically.

We are the ultimate lifeform.  
>We are the beginning.<br>We are the end.  
>We are the highlights in between.<p>

We lick our bloody lips as we tear apart this worthless human being before us with our mind.

We smile as we look up at the child.

The poor fat nephew whose fear taught him to obey.

He will have his place in this world.  
>Just as everybody else will.<p>

We cry out as we unleash our anger to the walls around us. Walls bending and crushing. Monitors cracking, breaking under pressure.  
>The fat kid tumbling, flying, crying out as he hits the wall behind him.<p>

Part of us wants to save him.  
>Part of us wants him to suffer.<p>

Neither of us act like we truly acknowledge it at all.

We can feel the ship around us sinking as we raise our arms upward.

We're closer than we thought. Or maybe just faster, because that's when we crash into the city.  
>And that's when we fade into darkness.<p>

* * *

><p>We awake, clutching something in our fist.<br>A human heart.

Snively's.

We scream and tear the Death Egg apart from the outside in. Peeling it open like an orange. The sides and top of it crashing into the city around us. Destroying what's already broken. Reducing buildings and homes into rubble.

We take a deep breath of fresh air.

The coin has landed. The decision has been made.

Tails.

How ironic.

* * *

><p>Perhaps reader doesn't understand how this universe works.<br>Perhaps even we don't.

Reader doesn't know that very same gym class was interrupted by my classmates, teachers, friends and family getting murdered. Destroyed. Obliterated.

Killed.

Only Sonic and I made it out of the school alive. Only he and I were fast enough to escape the army of SWATbots gunning down every mobian in the school indiscriminately.

Only we were fast enough to make it out of the school with our lives in tact. Well, there may have been others, but we never heard from them.

It was us and Sonic looking for a new home. Drinking from ponds, eating hopefully nonpoisonous berries. It was us.

It was always us, but now it's a different us.  
>My head hurts.<p>

We found Knothole. Or maybe Knothole found us.  
>We got older, faster, stronger, wiser.<p>

We killed Snively. We grew even faster, even stronger, even wiser and older, and we killed Snively again.

A smile spreads across our face. A satisfied grin. All teeth and self-worship.

We did it, we think out loud, as we trek through the ruins of the city.

We've done this before many times.

The atmosphere is always... slightly different.

Bit, it is humbling all the same.

The dead silence strangely comforts us as we walk over the rubble and into what's left of the streets.

By now, everyone is either dead or hiding.

We take a trip down memory lane, listening to and watching the night from under the streetlights that still work.

We smile to ourselves, how ironic it is that we look for the stars under artificial light.

We have a laugh and walk into the dark to truly appreciate the stars.  
>And it looks as if the universe is spinning around us, trying to convince us that we are the dark little center of the universe when we are not.<p>

We take a deep breath and lose ourselves in the cool night air. Just a small piece of something that functions beyond our own understanding.  
>The ground begins to quake, but we don't lose our balance. We move with it. Dancing a cosmic dance.<p>

Lights and colors blurring around us and our heart is overflowing with joy.

And that's when I hear him screaming.

* * *

><p>"Tails! Tails!" Sonic calls out, excitedly. Or maybe he's frightened, or flustered, or shaken, or frustrated. We can't really tell. "Did you see that? Shit was like Christmas in Australia!"<p>

And in our weakened state


	5. and even nothing is something

I fall to my knees, useless and bleeding.  
>You are here with me, whispering unintelligibly into my ear. Into my brain.<br>Tails is screaming, crying, calling out to the heavens: "BUT WHAT IS AN AUSTRALIA?"

We don't know. We never did. We never will.


	6. Credits

Special thanks and credits go to;

Swiper. No Swiping.  
>Grasslike plants growing in wet places<br>Fox McCloud  
>Scari Ari and the Five Fingered Trident<br>The Sum of All Beers  
>Trish J.<br>Respice Finem  
>Sega of America<br>Sega of Japan  
>PFFR<br>Modest Mouse  
>Bubbles<br>Hideo Kojima  
>Mister Takeda<br>Delilah  
>Akira<br>Ties  
>Whiskey<br>Marijuana  
>Other things<br>God

Thanks for, uh. Something. Fuck you, I guess.

I love you all. Thanks. And fuck you.


End file.
